


maybe we'll reallign

by thisdarkpassenger



Series: harryhermione drabbles [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Deathly Hallows, F/M, Tent Sex, fair warning there is smut, prepare for a toothache, tent au, there is a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:47:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27627016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisdarkpassenger/pseuds/thisdarkpassenger
Summary: "We are not having this conversation..."Harry and Hermione have to come to terms with what they did together on a drunken night.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Series: harryhermione drabbles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1999588
Comments: 11
Kudos: 145





	maybe we'll reallign

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoy, feel free to leave a review

"We are not having this conversation..."

He sighed, frowning at her, and played with the hem of his shirt.

Hermione ignored him, standing from her seat and making her way over to where the small collection of liquor bottles that were in the corner of the tent. _Finally!_ She unscrewed a bottle and poured herself another glass.

"So when are we going to talk about it?"

She shook her head. "There is nothing to talk about." She looked over her shoulder and sent him a grin, dismissive and unphased. "It happened, it's over, and that's that."

He leaned forward. " _That's that_?" He sighed "We don't bring it up again?"

"What's wrong with a little suppression?" Her brows raised. "I think muggle psychology has it completely wrong. Sometimes you just need to completely forget something. Plus you are the suppression expert."

He let out a huff. "It's that easy for you?"

"We were _intoxicated_." She laughed shortly and turned her attention back to her glass. She tried to remain nonchalant and added, "I don't see what the big deal is. I barely even remember it."

He was behind her in an instant, his fingers on her hips, squeezing. She blamed it on the fire she set up earlier when she felt heat roll under her skin; it couldn't be the way he pressed against her, his body, hard, and warm underneath all of his layers. One of his hands maneuvered around to press against her stomach, fingers splayed, while the other reached up to move her hair to one side, revealing her neck to him. She could feel his breath play over her skin, tickling the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck.

"You weren't that intoxicated, Hermione... You have to remember some of it."

"No." Her eyes shut. "None of it. All of it is a blur, forgettable, it was—"

His lips pressed against her neck, warm and smooth. He kissed his way, _up, up_ , and lightly tugged on earlobe with his teeth before ducking his head once more. "You don't remember me doing this?" His fingers found the sleeve of her sweater and tugged at it until it started revealing the rest of her shoulder for him to nuzzle. He licked and nibbled and kissed his way across her bare skin, his teeth grazing her bra strap.

"I do not—" Her breath caught as his other hand slid under her shirt, the tips of his fingers skating over her stomach and delving beneath the waist of her jeans, tracing the top of her underwear teasingly.

Part of her wanted to run, wanted to step out of his embrace and tell him she was completely unmoved by it, he had zero affect on her. Another part just wanted to lean back against him, encourage his hand further into her jeans, and succumb. But then she remembered where she was, she remembered _who_ it was that was touching her, and she knew that it couldn't happen. It shouldn't have happened the first time. And yes, she will admit to herself, she remembered every single second of it. It would be a lot easier if she couldn't, but she did, and she knew that what happened that night couldn't happen again. Because sex was one thing, a release, it didn't always have to include emotions or feelings, but what they'd been doing, what he was doing right now, that was a prequel to more, and that just was not allowed. That wasn't part of who they were to each other. That was a chapter of their friendship that was not supposed to be written.

Which was why she'd spent the last week trying to pretend like everything was fine, it was normal, they were totally okay. No weirdness, no talking about it, no in-depth analysis of what it entails. It was just swept under the rug, labeled _'Oops'_ and forgotten. Only he wasn't forgetting, he wasn't following her lead, and she was certain that he wasn't willing to let it just be a one time thing.

He was stubborn and seemed to be set on proving her wrong about what had happened, what could happen, and where they were headed.

She knew where it would head if she explored things. Heartbreak central, population: her. As per usual. If she honestly let herself think too deeply about her feelings for him, she already knew they were perilously close to falling into the category of _'more than friendship'_ , so she was doing all the backtracking she could to keep herself from going any further.

Of course, having his fingers slide into her underwear while his other unsnapped her bra wasn't helping things.

She moved forward, hit the small table, cursed, and then pushed herself out of arm's reach as fast as she could manage. She had to catch her bra as it came loose and reach behind her to do it back up as she glared at him from several feet away.

Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair and turned to face her, his head tilted. When he went to step forward, she put up her hand. "No! You stay over there! Where I can keep an eye on you."

His lips twitched with amusement. "Hermione, this is getting ridiculous. Can we just talk about it?"

"That— That was not talking," she reminded, pointing to where she had been standing. "That was fondling and— and distracting."

He suppressed his grin.

"It's not funny!"

He shook his head. "You are right. I'm sorry." He held his hands up. "I'll keep them to myself. I just want to talk."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, sure," she muttered sarcastically.

"Seriously." He stepped back and made his way back over to his chair, taking a seat. 

She pursed her lips, feeling uncertain, but moved over to take a seat near him. "I have a proposal, we don't talk about it," she told him when she sat down. "Any of it. We just... move on."

"Why are you so reluctant?" he wondered, sitting forward, trying to catch her eyes as she cast them away, pointedly staring at the fire.

" _Because!_ " she cried. "All I see is everything that's going to go wrong, everybody who will be hurt, and yes, okay, maybe it feels good in the moment, but in the long run...?" She shook her head. "There is going to be a long road ahead of us and to be honest, I'd rather have my best friend there than an ex-boyfriend added to my already list of things I have screwed up."

"How do you know any of that will happen? How do you know it'll go wrong or it will end badly? What if we aren't something you'll regret?"

"You were there for Ginny, you fell in _love_ with Ginny..." She stared at him searchingly. "The person you want, what you're looking for, that's not me."

"I know what I want." He met her eyes seriously. "Look, We're over and I... I moved on. I let go."

She laughed shortly, dismissively, and turned her eyes up.

"Hermione, you've been with me, beside me, for how many years now?"

She shrugged. "I don't know...Seven."

"And Ginny and I… I don't see it happening. Ever again."

"And she can still get your attention with that map!"

“She's my friend. I care about her. I want her to be okay,” he paused to take a deep breath. "You wouldn't be second. You aren't."

"Harry, just stop." Suddenly feeling exhausted, she looked at him, her shoulders lost their posture. "Stop."

He dropped his eyes to stare at the floor.

"You're my friend, my _best_ friend," she told him. "But if I let myself, If I fall deeper into this hole of us," Her lips trembled as her voice rose in pitch with her emotions. "I'll have no one to pick me up and put me back together in the aftermath."

“The state of the world, the state of our lives,” she paused. “It is hard enough as it is,”

He closed his eyes.

She stood from her chair, deciding she'd had enough of talking for one night. She moved to leave, pausing only when he called her name.

"What if I'm already there? What if I've been there for a while?"

She stared at the back of his head, a tear dribbling down her cheek. She thought of Ginny, of the way Harry looked at her, at how hard he had tried to get her to realize it was him, he was who she really wanted. Even after everything. He still hoped that she would realize he was for her. It had been over for months but Hermione was still just as sure that Harry Potter would always have something for Ginny Weasley, and she refused to be the idiot who thought she could shift his feelings to her.

"You haven't," she told him. "And you won't."

Without waiting for a reply, she left, grabbing her wand and exited through the flap of the tent, hugging her arms around her as her tears fell freely. She could have apparated. But the cool air felt good, it made her tears freeze and dry faster. It made the outside feel as empty as the inside. And maybe, even if she'd never admit it, a part of her hoped he would come after her and change her mind.

The farther she walked, the more she felt an empty ache in her chest. What would happen now? Would he stop pushing? Would he let their friendship go back to what it was? Would he forget all about their one night together? Chalk it up to a drunken mistake like she'd pleaded with him to do?

As much as she'd pushed for just that, she wasn't sure she wanted it. What if he did forget? What if, tomorrow, he acted like they were okay? Like nothing had happened, nothing had changed; they were just Harry and Hermione again. Best friends until the end of time, or until one of them was killed. That would be better though, wouldn't it? Because she'd have him. Not in the way she wanted, not in the way she craved, but to have him at all was what mattered. She couldn't be the girl on the sidelines again. She had been that with Ron last year. She'd come too far, done too much, pulled herself up out of the depths of second-best and told herself she'd never go back. So she wouldn't. Not for Harry, not for anyone.

As she walked, she let her eyes fall closed. She let the cool air meet her damp cheeks, shivering when the wet streaks of her tears made her skin cold. She'd been warm for a while. Not like a fresh cup of tea kept her body at normal human temperatures warm, but she'd felt fire sing in her veins. She missed that. She missed what it felt like to have him, even for one night. It would have to be enough.

The memory flooded her, wrapping around her like a well-loved quilt, and she let it. All she would have was her memory from here on out; she might as well enjoy it.

_They were drunk, and dancing. Sometimes it consisted of jumping, her arms above her head, and shaking her hips. She was off-beat but she didn't care. She felt good. Great, almost. Sometimes a slower song would hit and they would move together, pressed against each other._

_Another successful ending to a dead end week. They were alive! Everybody who mattered to her was alive . Merlin, wasn't that kind of depressing? That the highlight of each passing say was only that they managed not to get killed by snatchers. Maybe. But it had been so long since she could call her life normal that it didn't hit her as hard as it could have._

_Harry was laughing. At her, with her, somewhere in between. He was in a good mood. His usual worry or grumpiness wasn't an all-encompassing dark cloud that followed him like it had been lately. He was more lighthearted than she'd seen him in years. Actually, she didn't know what brought on this happier Harry, but she was glad for it._

_It meant their drinking wasn't going to turn into a pity fest because Ron was gone. And, okay, so their so-called celebration really only consisted of the two of them, but she wasn't really complaining. So Hermione and Harry had gone to use the invisibility cloak to sneak into a liquor store and snatch their finest bottles._

_"Hey!" Hermione turned abruptly to face him. "We could have gone to the cinema! I haven't been since I was thirteen," She stuck her lip out in a pout._

_He grinned at her, ducking his head as he chuckled under his breath. "There will be more films to see."_

_She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but it was going to be a ' thing '!" She dragged her feet as she walked over to sit on her chair to sit beside him, leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder. "Is it just me or does it seem like every time we have a lead, there is always something that ruins it."_

_He raised his glass in agreement._

_Hermione snatched it from his hand and took a long sip. She handed it back and sat upright. "We should have a sleepover!"_

_He blinked and chuckled "We are in the same tent. I don't know how much we can change it up."_

_Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "Come on, Harry! I want to do something fun. We can sleep on the same side tonight."_

_"You seemed to be having a lot of fun dancing a minute ago."_

_"I almost fell in the fire," she admitted._

_He bit his lip so he wouldn't laugh._

_" Oh, shut up!" she said, punching his shoulder even as she laughed at herself._

_"Okay," He held his hand up in surrender. "What do you want to do on this sleepover?"_

_She tipped her head thoughtfully before brightening and telling him, "Junk food and more alcohol."_

_"I think you've had enough alcohol."_

_She scoffed and stole his drink again, standing from her spot. "I'm not as drunk as you think I am. I'm just... happy _._ " _

_He stared at her, not quite convinced._

_"Really!" She nodded at him. "Don't you feel happy? We have a lead. We are alive."_

_"I'm not sure if that's encouraging or not..." His brow furrowed thoughtfully._

_"No!" She hurried toward him, her finger waving in his face. "None of that!"_

_He smiled, staring up at her, his brow cocked._

_"No brooding Harry. No 'what is existing' and 'why do bad things keep happening to me?'" She shook her head. "This is a happy night and we are going to be happy people... "_

_"I_ am _happy," he assured._

_She was skeptical._

_Chuckling quietly, he reached for her hand, fingers making their way to her wrist, and tugged on her._

_Already off balance, Hermione abruptly fell forward and, with a little maneuvering on his part, found herself in his lap. She giggled, her head falling back._

_He watched her, smiling to himself._

_When she raised her head, she stared at him a long moment. "You_ look _happy," she admitted._

_Reaching up, he brushed her hair off her cheek. "I'm with you."_

_"I suppose I am not the worst_ company..." she joked.

_His fingers followed the dip of her neck and Hermione sobered, swallowing tightly as he stroked down to her collarbones. She looked down, her eyes searching his face, but he was staring at the progress his fingers were making. She felt his other hand flex on her hip, his thumb rubbing circles over her side._

_She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry._

_Harry was handsome; she'd recognized that within the past few years. It was something she'd had to make a conscious effort to distance herself from during their friendship. It was okay to recognize that a friend was good looking, but spending too much time thinking of the lines of his jaw was probably a bad idea. Here, now, however, it was hard not to take in the arch of his cheeks, the length of his eyelashes, the curl of his lips..._

_His lips were on her shoulder._

_He'd dragged the sleeve of her shirt down and pressed a kiss to her bare skin. And he kept kissing, bringing her closer until she was leaning into his chest, while his lips made a path up her neck. He paused behind her ear and nuzzled the shell._

_Hermione closed her eyes, a tiny breath leaving her as she reached for him, gripping the front of his sweater._

_His fingers found her chin, tipped it down, and turned her to face him. She could feel his breath on her lips, warm and even. And her resolve cracked; the foundation of an argument to stay platonic became unsteady._

_She opened her eyes slowly and stared into warm green eyes. He met her gaze intensely, his fingers gently tracing the curve of her cheek._

_"This is a bad idea," she murmured, even as her eyes fell to his lips._

_"Mm-mm." He shook his head faintly. "I think it's the best one we've had."_

_She wanted to laugh, to smile, but all she could focus on was the heat stirring inside her, the desire and want, the flood of feelings that were pushing against a damn she'd erected years ago. "Harry—"_

_He kissed her; firmly. Just their lips pressed together, their noses lightly touching, and then he touched his forehead to hers. He cupped his hand around her neck and he parted his mouth, suckling her bottom lip between his, biting down gently. He traced her lips with his tongue, nibbling the edges, and her good intentions faltered. She tried to stop herself, but she couldn't. It felt good... It felt_ right _. Out everything that has happened recently, this felt right. Letting out a sigh, she kissed him back, sliding her hand up to his face, meeting his lips, his tongue, his teeth with just as much intensity as him._

_Slow and gentle were discarded as desire hit them hard. She turned in his lap, shifting her legs so she was straddling him, resting chest to chest. His hands found their way up her shirt, stroking, kneading. Panting, she tore her mouth from his and buried her face in his neck, kissing and nipping as her hands fell to his shirt, pulling and tugging the fabric up his body, needing to feel his skin._

_He took the end of her shirt in his hands, pulling it up and over her head, tossing it elsewhere._

_His lips passed down her chest, his teeth and lips teasing the soft flesh of her breasts, nipping along the edges of her bra. She shrugged, letting the straps slip down her shoulders, and reached behind her to get at the clasp. He batted her hands away and stood up abruptly, dropping her feet to the floor._

_She stood in front of him, her knees shaking, her head spinning with confusion._

_He tossed his shirt away before reaching for her. Taking her by her hips, he pulled her forward. Unbuttoning her jeans, he tugged them down her legs, letting them fall in a heap at her feet._

_"Not that I'm complaining, but the clothing ratio here is_ way _off..." she murmured, steadying herself with her hands on his forearms as she tried to kick her jeans free._

_His fingers curled around the edges of her underwear and her heart was suddenly in her throat, a swooping sensation in her belly._

_"Harry..."_

_He cast a grin up at her and shifted forward on the couch. His hands slid around, gripping the backs of her thighs, fitting comfortably in the curves of her arse. She swallowed tightly, her voice caught, and watched before he tilted his head up and took the fabric and slid them down._

_And then he was kissing her again, his lips finding the top of her slit. Her breath left her in a rush, stuttering as his tongue parted her, dabbing against her clit._

_She buried a hand in his hair, tangling it in her fingers._

_Harry shoved her underwear down to her ankles and lifted one of her legs, hitching it over his shoulder as buried his mouth further against her, suckling and nibbling her, his teeth and tongue teasing her sensitive folds. He raised his arm, her thigh balanced on his bicep, and slid his hand up her side, rubbing his knuckles over her ribs, where he knew she was ticklish. She cried out, rocking against him. He chuckled, the vibrations against her clit making her bite her lip, her eyes rolling back in her head. She gripped his hair tighter, tugging on it, but he merely tugged on her clit with his teeth._

_Grunting, she felt her orgasm nearly consume her; it was so close, just within reach. And then his fingers were sliding inside her, curling, rubbing, but slow, so slow, and she shook her head in frustration._

_"Harry, please,"_

_He leaned his head back, giving her one long lick._

_She squeezed her eyes shut. No, that wasn't what she wanted. She needed him to go faster, deeper._

_He pressed his mouth to her again, his eyes never leaving hers, and teased his tongue over her clit._

_Her mouth fell open in a silent cry._

_His fingers pumped inside her, picking up speed, and she kept her eyes on him, even as her stomach tightened, her chest ached, and she longed to just throw her head back and shout until she echoed through the house. She watched him, how his eyes darkened, his brow knotted, his jaw worked. She could see his enjoyment, the pleasure he got out of tasting her, and it made her wetter, made her clench around his fingers as they thrust inside her._

_And then he scraped his teeth over her clit and she felt it, hard and fast, rushing over so completely she nearly lost her balance. Her nails dug into his neck. Her whole body shook with it, pleasure flying through her bones and over her skin, twisting up every part of her and releasing it in waves._

_He was still licking her, his tongue lightly lapping at her folds. He'd let her leg down, though they were useless; he was holding her up, his hands back around her thighs. As her chin dropped back to her chest, she watched him as he took his mouth from her and kissed her hip, her stomach, burrying his nose against her bellybutton. Her fingers dragged through his hair affectionately, tracing around his ears, stroking down his neck._

_He rested his cheek against her stomach for a moment, his thumbs stroking back and forth over her legs. It was nice, content, and easy. It didn't feel awkward, it felt comfortable. It felt like they'd been doing this for longer than they had been; like they were long-time lovers and not trying their hand at something previously forbidden._

_And then he was standing; he kissed her neck, the underside of her jaw, and finally her lips, deep and long, licking into her mouth, sharing the taste of herself with her. Her arms wrapped around him, hands fitting around the back of his shoulders. In several clumsy motions, they had stumbled over to his side of the tent and eventually to his cot._

_She stared up at him, lifting to her elbows. He reached behind him and pulled his undershirt up and over his head, tossing it away. As he reached for his pants, she pushed up to her knees and replaced his hands with her own, undoing the button and the zipper before she slid her hand inside to cup him over the fabric of his underwear. He was hard in her palm; she shivered, biting her lip. He shoved his pants away before he reached around her, found the clasp of her bra and managed to unclasp it. His knuckles dragged over her shoulders and down her arms as he took the straps and pulled her bra down. She dropped her hand from him and watched his eyes fall to her chest._

_She brushed her fingers back through his hair, tightening her grip as he ducked his head down and kissed her shoulder, his mouth trailing a path between her breasts. He reached out and took her by one of her knees, drawing her leg around him, her other leg following suit, as he leaned her back, his mouth wrapping around the pink nipple of her right breast, his teeth plucking it._

_He was heavy on top of her, solid and firm from head to toe. She combed her fingers down to his neck and spread her hands down his shoulders. Her thighs squeezed him encouragingly as he pressed wet kisses down her body, lightly nipping her skin. He shifted his hips forward and, despite the barrier of the fabric, he pressed against her deliciously, the friction against her clit making her head fall back, neck arched. His mouth crawled back up her body, teasing her neck, his teeth scraping her chin, before finally he met her lips once more. He was still rubbing himself against her, slow and steady, and her hands fell to his waist, fingers digging in around the edges of his underwear, tugging. He reached down to help her and finally she felt all of him, hard and warm and pressed against all of her._

_Her breathing came quickly and she stared up at him, her brow furrowed. For just a second, uncertainty settled in. What were they doing? This was_ Harry! _Her best friend, her confidant. They weren't supposed to do this. This might be a one-way ticket to Awkward-ville and there were certainly no refunds. No returns._

_But then his hand found hers and he interlaced their fingers, he raised it up and pressed a kiss to her wrist and down, down her forearm. He pressed her hand back to the bed and his mouth slanted over hers. He wasn't confused. He wasn't questioning this. And his resolve, his certainty, was what melted hers. She gave herself over to the feelings, to the heat between them. She let her toes curl and her hips arch as he slid a hand between them, stroking his fingers down her slit, teasing her, before he began to press himself against her._

_She didn't close her eyes; she kept her eyes on his as he slid inside her, filling her, stretching her. Her breath caught until he was buried to the hilt, and then it left her on a gasp. She squeezed around him and then she reached a hand around to his hip and pushed, silently asking him to move. She wanted to feel, she wanted to get lost in it._

_He grinned at her, his lips curling at the corners, and then he was biting her bottom lip, not enough to break the skin, but a sharp stab that was gone as quickly as it came. She focused, her every sense sharp, and then he was moving. He was rolling his hips back, drawing out of her, only to snap forward and bury himself in her again. It wasn't slow and gentle, though she knew he had it in him, he'd already shown her plenty of that. It was hard and fast and it filled that needy ache inside her._

_He knew exactly when she was about to come, his fingers delved down and rubbed circles around her clit, and twisted his hips so he was grinding into her. She climaxed on a silent scream, her nails scraping across his lower back. She lay panting, her whole body limp with it, shockwaves of pleasure echoing throughout her limbs. He wasn't inside of her, she could feel the emptiness, and opened her eyes to see him kneeling between her legs, still hard, still ready._

_His hand found her stomach, fingers spread wide, and his head ducked, lips smoothing down her inner thigh, still shaking. She both wanted and didn't want him to slide lower, to let his tongue delve between the lips of pussy and lick her to another orgasm. But then his hands were behind her knees and he was pressing her legs back, quickly and easily turning her over so she was laid out in front of him on her stomach. Confused at first, she lifted herself up onto her elbows, but then his hands were smoothing down her back, his thumbs pressing along either side of her spine, and it felt so good that she stopped, laying back down to let him continue._

_She could almost forget the fact that she was naked, and so was he, when he slid both hands over one shoulder, one after the other, loosening up the tensed muscles before he started sliding them down the outer side of her shoulder blade. He teased his fingers back up and kneaded the nape of her neck before he repeated the process to her opposite shoulder. Letting out a soft sight, she relaxed against the bed._

_His hands slid down her side, gently rubbing the heels of his palms against her as he went, until he reached her hip. He stroked his knuckles down either cheek of her ass before laying them palm flat against the back of her thighs. That low heat stirred inside her as his fingers moved firmly down her legs, teasing the inside of her thighs, rasping over the backs of her knees. She bit her lip the higher up he reached, the weight of his hand close but not quite pressed against her slit. She let him tease her for a few minutes before she huffed out his name._

_He chuckled and bent to bite her left butt cheek, an affectionate nip, that made her reach back and swat at him. He kissed up her back then, his lips so light she thought it might just be his breath skittering over her. As he reached her shoulder, he brushed her hair to one side and pressed his lips to the nape of her neck. At the same time, his fingers slid inside her, one at first, thrusting shallowly, but a second joined as he kissed up behind her ear._

_Hermione lifted her hips, her legs spreading, knees digging into the bed. One of his hands found hers, his fingers curling into the spaces between hers, and it felt somehow more intimate than anything else they were doing. It sparked something in her chest that made her heart thud and flip. And then the fingers inside her were replaced with him and she let out a heavy sigh, coherent thought spiraling out of reach. He felt so good. He slid his hand under her, spread over her stomach, and lifted her, holding her up as he kept a steady pace. She pressed her chest down against the bed for balance and his fingers slid lower, catching her clit between two of them and pinching lightly. She grunted, twisting her hips, and he sunk into her harder._

_She was surprised at how quickly she was ready to come and shook her head; she wanted to taste it and at the same time wanted to prolong it. She didn't want it to end, because as soon as it did, things would have to go back to how they were. She would have to remember Ginny and Harry's lingering feelings for her. She would have to gather up her clothes and her dignity and pretend everything was fine, nothing had changed, and they were still the same as ever. And she didn't want that, not yet. She wanted to enjoy every second of this. But it was Harry and he knew what he was doing._

_When they slumped back to the cot, she was panting. He rolled over onto his back to lay next to her, his hand on his heaving chest as he tried to catch his breath. She couldn't move. She was almost completely sure that her bones had turned to jelly. She laid there for a long time, just trying to feel her toes again._

_She felt the cot move as he shifted and she suddenly tensed. He brushed her hair back and kissed her shoulder, soft and sweet. Even with her wobbly knees, it probably would've been smarter to get up, gather up her clothes, go home and pretend the whole thing was a drunk dream. But it felt good, his fingers stroking up and down her back, his lips on her arm. It felt good when they laid back in his bed and tucked the sheet around them. And it especially felt good when he wrapped an arm around her waist and spooned her as he fell asleep, his face buried at her shoulder._

_But Hermione only slept a little while, waking up before the sun had even risen. "Good" was relative when she knew how quickly it could evaporate. She slid out from his arms and left his cot, standing uncertainly for a moment, staring down at him as he slept, a furrow forming at his brow. She wanted to reach out and smooth it away; to see happy Harry again. Instead, she turned before making her way to ._

_Her cot was cold, the sheets chilled her skin as she slid between them. She never felt more lonely than she did when she turned over and reached out, finding no one there even as she could still smell Harry's cologne on her skin, still feeling him between her legs. She closed her eyes and told herself to forget it. It wouldn't happen again and, come tomorrow, it would already be a memory._

And it was a memory. A good memory. One of her best if she completely ignored the crippling sense of regret she got when she woke up. Not that she'd done it, not really; but that she'd had him and now she had to let him go. A rush of new tears filled her eyes and she shook her head, swallowing tightly. She swiped at her cheeks with the back of her hands.

"Stop, stop, stop," she chanted, fisting her hands.

Shaking her head, she gave a huff and decided that walking was not doing it for her. She wanted to be home with her parents; she wanted comfy pajamas and maybe ice cream.

* * *

She peaked inside of the tent, pitched black. She sighed and took her shoes off, she made her way to her side of the tent. 

Her brow furrowed when she saw the light, but it only lasted a second when she saw a familiar figure lying atop her cot, legs crossed at his ankle, hands stacked one on top of the other. His eyes were closed and his breathing steady, enough that she might have thought he was sleeping.

For a moment, she considered just backing up and leaving. Maybe he hadn't heard her entrance. She could leave again and take more time for herself. She didn't expect him to do this, to have another blow-out after the other one was so fresh. But… maybe he was taking her seriously. Maybe this was him telling her he agreed, he would stop, he would let it go.

She wasn't sure she wanted to hear that either and she found herself taking a step back.

"If you run, this'll be the second time you leave me alone instead of talking to me… Is that going to be a thing now?"

She stared at his face as he opened his eyes and turned to look at her, his lips set in a firm line.

"We talked…Just a little bit ago, remember?"

"You talked, I listened, and then when I tried to talk, you decided you wanted to leave…" he argued before sitting up and moving to the edge of the cot. "You know, if I remember correctly, relationships are usually a two way street, they tend to work better when two people are involved in the decision making process."

" _Friendship_ ," she corrected. "This is a friendship, not a _relationship_. There's a difference."

He smiled, a faint curling of his lips on one side, but it wasn't the smile she was used to seeing. With a sigh, he rested his elbows on his knees, hands hanging down, and he looked up at her, his head tipped. "What did I do when I wanted to be with Ginny? When Dean was with her?"

Her brow furrowed. "You… You waited for her."

"And that worked, right? For a while…"

She nodded.

"But see, the problem with that is that eventually nothing might come of it…" He threw his hands up and pushed himself back so he was sitting up straight. "I had built up all these expectations in my head and it was nothing like that…" He shrugged dismissively. "And that's fine. No relationship will ever be what you expect. I will not be pursuing that anymore."

He smiled faintly. "And it doesn't matter. I… I stopped months ago." He stared up at her searchingly. "Hermione, I don't want to be with Ginny. I stopped wanting. There wasn't a pull anymore. It was just Ginny, and we weren't together, and I was me again, with horcruxes, and the threat of being killed over my head. Not that it ever left," He held his hands up and shrugged. "I know how to be on my own. I can live without people, I have done it before. And I can do it again. The question is if I want to or not."

She nodded slowly, admitting that, yes, he had come a long way in his years at Hogwarts. Truth be told, in the past few months, Harry had detached himself a lot from Ginny, keeping her as a friend, with slight distance. From where Hermione was standing though, she thought it was only a waiting game. And with this war and these Horcruxes, time was all they had. 

"You remember after we finally stopped feeling stuck after Ron left?"

She smiled, ducking her head. They had taken a break for a few days, it was selfish but they could afford to be for a few days. It was days of moving, no real destination in sight. She remembered how it felt, like freedom was finally at their fingertips, and they were chasing it for all they were worth. It was the best time she'd had in years.

"Sometimes, you remind me what it's like to live."

Her brow furrowed as she raised her eyes to meet his.

He stared at her, eyes filled with gentleness and sincerity. "It's so easy to get caught up in everything that happens and everything that comes with being the boy who lived. All of this magical _rubbish_ that I was thrown into. It's easy to forget about actually living instead of just spending your time waiting. But you made me remember what it's like to be alive. To go away and take time to enjoy the world, to stop waiting for my potential death and take charge of my own life. I… I admire you, Hermione. Because when you want something, you go for it. You don't let anything stand in your way. You're stronger than anyone. It's your heart and everything you have inside that just… It lights you up."

He shook his head, pushing himself off the cot on his side of the tent. "I'm done doing things that only hurt me in the end. I'm done hoping Ron might hate me, or if Ginny might really see me or... I just want you to know everything, I want you to have all the facts before you make your decision…" He reached for her, cupping her cheeks. "I don't love Ginny.. I don't know how else to prove that to you except to tell you that I'm willing to fight for you. I'll fight every day for you. But only if you fight for me as well, only if you want this, too…" His thumb stroked down her cheek, his eyes falling to gaze at her lips, brow furrowing tightly. "I know you don't believe me, and maybe it'll take a while to convince you, show you, but I love you… Hermione, _I'm in love with you_. I love our friendship, I need it in my life, but it's not all that I want… I want more."

Her lips trembled as she stared up at him. she felt her heart swoop. "I try _so bloody hard_. So, sohard to be strong. I try not to do things that I know will end with me heartbroken or hurt. And you… You are the biggest risk. Not just because of Ron, but because our friendship is the most stable thing in my life, ever, especially now, and I don't want to lose that, i can’t, not for anything… So if I do this, I have to be certain… And you have to be certain. Not that you love me, because feelings and love can be strong one day and completely different the next. But you have to be sure that it's worth it. That this is worth it. That the risk is worth it in the end…"

He bent forward, until his forehead met hers. "I don't want to wake up twenty years from now, reaching across an empty bed, wishing you were there, because I was too much of a coward to fight for what I wanted… what I want... I would rather know that I tried, that we were the best we could ever be, than watch you love Ron knowing that it could have been me."

He swallowed, “We are risking our lives right now, people want us dead. There is chance that you or I,” he paused when she started to shake her head. “I don’t want to die without telling you these things,” 

She was still shaking her head, blinking back tears. "How do you know? How do you know we'll work?"

"Seven years, Hermione. Seven years you've been my best friend, the only thing that made sense when nothing else did. When everything seems to be falling apart. You are the one I trust, the only one I know I can turn to. When I struggle with myself, with what is inside my head, I know that I can talk to you, I just have to hear your voice, and everything will be okay… So yeah, I can see us thirty, fifty years from now, and we're together… You are the only constant in my life that I will never regret." He smiled.

Swallowing tightly, she reached for him, her hands adjusting his glasses. "I do love you. And I told myself I shouldn't, but I didn't stop… I don’t think I can. And I want this, I'll fight for this, but just remember, you asked for that." She looked up at him and stared at him seriously. "So be sure, because when I do this, I'm all in. One thousand percent of Hermione Granger, completely dedicated to making this work and dealing with repercussions in any way."

Good humor and happiness spreading over his face. "That's all I want."

She slid her hands up his shoulders, and rested them behind his neck, "Well, what are you waiting for? An invitation? This is where you kiss the girl and we begin the fight to live happily ever after…"

He chuckled and tilted her chin upwards with his index finger. "Haven't you heard? Despite our dead ends, I have been happy for weeks… I was just hoping you would catch up."

She bit her lip, but failed to suppress her smile.

His gaze fell to her mouth for just a split-second before his lips made their way to hers, drawing her closer. She pressed herself against him, sighing at the solid foundation they built then and there. For a long time now, Harry had been her a support system, a constant, and maybe she chose not to see how they danced around something more these last few years and even more so over the months leading up to this moment. Hadn't she just been thinking he was happy? Happier than she'd seen him in years, and she didn't know why. 

They stumbled back toward her cot and she laughed as they fell against it. They were completely sober and there would be no confusion, no excuses in the morning. When she woke, she wouldn't sneak away or try to pretend she didn't remember how it had happened or why. She wouldn't refuse to speak to him when they woke up. She would turn over and fall into his side and he would wrap his arm around her and he would gladly welcome her in his arms. They'd listen to the radio in the morning over a pot of tea and continue working on their next lead, meeting whatever Voldemort had to throw at them head-on. Maybe it would be a rarely seen day off, no interruptions, or maybe they'd be thrown into everything Voldemort gave them like most other days, she wasn't sure. But she did know that they would deal with it together. They would fight together. And she wouldn't regret one second of it, not for anything.

Even if it meant they were dead in the end.

_fin._


End file.
